


Home Run

by thecat_13145



Series: Bases [4]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M, hints of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 21:37:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecat_13145/pseuds/thecat_13145
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They Finally talk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Run

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for references to an past abusive relationship and hints of homophobia, toture and depression. I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.
> 
> Author's Note: A big thank you to cerealkiller0 Who this was written for and betaed all this series, while working on her own. Big Hug to her. she also told me motels in the US don't have kettles in the rooms. They tend to in the UK, and it worked better for the fic, so please ignore this error.

He really should have headed back to Washington, but the rains have washed out the road he favours, and he can’t face LA traffic this late at night, so he’s still here in the motel, sitting by the window that looks out over a small patch of grass watching the rain, and drinking the instant hot chocolate they provide, when there’s a knock on the door.

He wasn’t sure who expected to see standing there, but it certainly wasn’t Don Eppes, almost soaked to the skin.

Alright, they’ve kinda patched things up between them since the Hoyle incident, and the Garcia case, but there’s no way things can be like they were.

“Eppes.” He said, cautiously keeping his body angled to look at the other man. “What’s up?”

They’ve never spoken of it. 

Never talked about the day when Don was 15 and Dad came home early to find him and Tom Heyes making out in Don’s room. 

Tom had left nearly immediately afterwards and Don had come down expecting to be in trouble. 

Perhaps they might have talked about it, if Mom and Charlie hadn’t come home at that minute. That night, Charlie tells them all about his new tutor and about Perfect and Imaginary numbers over dinner. His dad listens politely and then speaks of his hopes for the future. A professorship for Charlie and For Don, a wife, children, a family. His eyes never leave Don while he’s saying it, which is perhaps as good as a conversation anyway. 

 

Don’s shirt clings to him, emphasising his muscles, the jeans are riding low. He wonders what so urgent to bring Don here this late and looking like that. A bad case is his best bet. Really bad, as the expression on Don’s face makes him think the other man has just lost an agent.

“Can I,” Don stops and swallows his voice harsh. “Can I come in?”

Rachel Goldberg is the first proper girl he brings home.

At 16, he’s a little late and he knows his mother has been fretting (alternating between abnormal development, and too normal development), but he’s being able to throw her off with it’s hard being the freak’s brother (which she focuses on the freak part, rather than the truth of the first part).

His father looks at Rachel and Don with approval, making the knot in Don’s stomach clench tighter. When they break up after prom, he pretends he didn’t see it coming.

Ian stepped aside, watching the other man half hobble in. Don moves like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his back. He stumbles, almost falling on the bed, causing Ian move automatically to grab him.

“Jesus, Eppes. What’s got into to you?” He muttered, easing the other man on to the bed. Don blinked at him.  
“Why do you stick around?”

“What?” Ian moved to the bathroom. Pulling a couple of the towels off the rack, he pulled the wet shirt off and wrapped the towel around him, before ducking to ease off soaked canvas shoes. “You’re soaked. Did you run here?”

“Why do you keep coming back?” Don’s voice sounded desperate. Really not the conversation he wanted to be having with a wet and evidently exhausted Don.

He’s not lying about his relationship with Terry, but he can’t blame her for not ranking pizza in the automat as their best date.

It started off fine. They were sitting, talking together, and then Don started saying something about baseball.

He’s not sure what he said, or how she knew, but when he’s finished, Terry gets to her feet, kisses him on the forehead, collects her clothes from the dryer and walks out.

He never tries to rekindle the relationship until he’s back in LA, and it’s the only relationship he has at the academy.

“We work together.”

Don shook his head. “No. You don’t have to come. The first time I just asked for an opinion on the data. You could have sent it by email.” Ian was about into interrupt, but Don rushed on. “The second, could have been a coincidence, but I asked Susan Holmes and she said you requested the assignment.” Ian shrugged. “Looked like a challenge.”

Don didn’t seem to hear him.” Hoyle was your case, but if you wanted Charlie’s help, you could have emailed him, you’ve done so before. The plane crash, again, I asked for an opinion. Most wouldn’t have bothered coming down.” The shivering wasn’t improving. He was going to have to get Don into some dry clothes, and possibly a shower, but in his current state shoving him under running water didn’t seem like a smart plan. He moved over towards his bag, but Don suddenly jerked, grabbing at his arm. “Don’t go.”

He never calls his parents from Quantico when Ian’s in the room. He’s not ashamed of Ian, no one could be, but he doesn’t think they’ll understand.

It doesn’t mean that when his mom tries to sound him out about potential girl friends, he doesn’t consider telling her the truth. That he’s with a man, and he makes him happy and he could probably kill them all at five hundred yards.

So instead, he laughs and tells her most of the girls he’s seeing are his students and he’s not dating one of them, and tries not to think about gun callused hands waiting for him.

“You’re freezing.” Ian said, slowly, but firmly. “I’m going to get some dry clothes, and maybe a hot drink.” Don’s eyes looked like the professors when he was processing something that made some form of sense. He released Ian’s wrist, so Ian decided to be glad for small mercies. He began digging in his bag.

“I know you got moved up to third best shot, or something like that, but you didn’t know that was going to happen when you came down. “ Ian located a pair of resemble clean sweatpants, and a T-Shirt that might fit Don. It had been a gag gift from his sister last Christmas, a black Shirt with S.H.I.E.L.D. spelt out on the back and the double headed eagle of the Marvel Agency on the front. He only carried it because it had been useful a couple of times for getting into a place. He really wasn’t that big comic book fan and the shirt was half a size too small. It should fit Don though.

Kim cheated first. He’s never told anyone, including Ian about that. Never even told Kim that he knew

He just came home one day and found her in the backyard, fucking some guy. Neither of them noticed him, and he just turned and walked away.

Yeah, it made him feel like shit inside, but Kim was the first woman who seemed to think the idea of spending the rest of him didn’t seem like a bad plan. He wanted his dad to be proud of him, wanted to give him the grandkids he wanted.

If that meant he had to ignore Kim and the other guy, that was just how it had to be.

Don was still talking. “Charlie said he thought if he didn’t go with you on that Rock Climbing case, you were going to shoot him. Or maybe shoot him in the foot and then drag him along. Said it was the only time he’d honestly being frightened of you.” The memory of that guy, the gun pointed at Don’s head, made Ian paused for a moment, the flush of anger and fear coming over him. He breathed deeply, before dropping to his knees and beginning to work on the buttons of Don’s jeans. He was proud of himself resisting the desire to look up, but the goose pimpled flesh at least reassured him. No marks, even if Don did seem completely out of it.

“The bureau didn’t want you on the Mason Duryea case. Thought you were emotionally involved. You threatened Susan until she gave you the all clear.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. You couldn’t threaten Susan. She just took one look at Ian and told him to “Go, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

He’s working later and later at the office, avoiding going home. Kim is mad at him once accuses him of cheating on her publicly in front of the whole office. It takes all his courage not to laugh at that one.

Ian shows up in New Mexico for a case. He’s no idea who told him about Don’s behaviour, but the other man drags him out for a beer, and they’re out nearly all night talking. Nothing happens, but it feels more like cheating on Kim than sleeping with Leah does.

Ian hooked an arm around Don’s shoulder, helping the other man to stand up. In one quick move, he’d pulled the jeans down and the sweatpants on. He doubted he’d be able to explain how he did it, especially with Don’s jeans that seemed to be moulded to his body, but he managed it and lowered Don down dressed in sweat pants. He picked up the second towel he’d brought and began to rub gently at Don’s head. Don leant back slightly, relaxing, but still talking.

“Garcia. You looked like you’d been shot when you saw me. You trust me. Not Charlie. You only asked for Charlie when you thought I couldn’t, wouldn’t help you”

Don was as dry as he was going to get with the towel. He moved away, forcing himself to ignore the small wince from Don as they lost contact, and put on the tiny motel kettle. He moved back to the bed, pulling Don against him. Sharing body heat would help, and it at least reassured him that while Don was cold, his temperature was nowhere near hypothermia. Whatever else was going on in Don’s head, this wasn’t the ramblings of a hypothermic.

“Michael Hiller was Coop’s case.” Don leaned backwards into him, but he was still talking. “You call him, asked to take it.” 

His hands run through Don’s hair automatically, enjoying the way the other man leans into his touch. Coop hadn’t needed much persuading. Hiller wasn’t an immediate threat, and Coop was heading north on a chase. He’d been happy to hand it over.

“Why’d you do that?” 

Everyone who knew about the relationship had advised Ian to quit. More than one of them had taken Don to one side and told him to end it. That he wasn’t being fair to Ian, to himself or to Kim/Robin/Liz/Who ever else he was dating.

The truth was, he never meant things to happen with Ian. They were just in the same place, at the same time and things happened. Or at least they did, until Ian tortured a 17 year old boy, and McGowan had started sniffing around. 

That had been the first time he made a conscious effort to put some distance between him and Ian, and to be fair to him the other man had accepted it.

He had sunk back to the role of Don’s friend. Or maybe more accurately, Don was Ian’s friend, as the man didn’t have all that many of those.

The kettle had boiled. Slowly, reluctantly, he tore himself away from Don, tearing open another packet of hot chocolate and mixing in with the water.

“Here.” He muttered, thrusting the mug into Don’s hands, and slipping back behind the other man. Don took a sip automatically before asking.

“Why do you keep coming back when you know what’s going to happen?”

A night of amazing sex, then Don sneaking away before dawn and Ian feeling like a whore. No, not a whore, a whore at least got paid, like a complete sap.

But the truth was he didn’t have a choice. He’d fallen heavily for Don at Quantico. For the intense young man fighting his dark demons. 

The truth was he’d know how this would play out since Don had told him he got a new job, “New Mexico. Closer to home” and he’d accept it. He wasn’t o.k. with it, but he accepted it as a part of him, same as sniping. 

Don apparently was waiting for answer.

“Just the way things work out Eppes.” Ian shrugged, pulling the T-Shirt on over Don’s head, but the other didn’t seem distracted.

“No, I treat you like dirt, I hurt you, but you keep coming back, you keep sticking around. You’re the only person who does that. Who doesn’t ask for anything, just keeps coming back, why?”

Robin had been supposed to meet him at his Dad’s that night. He’d been looking forward to it, something had been bugging her, she’d been walking on egg shells all day.

He’s being there about an hour, when his phone vibrates. Just one sentence. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Because I love you.” He decided it might be a good thing he didn’t make the drive to Washington, if he’s tired enough to say something like that. One thing he figured out pretty quickly with Don was that any relationship had to be on his terms. Try and force Don into something, and he’d hit back hurting himself and you in the process. Kim Hall had learnt that the hard way.

He waited for Don to pull away to walk out, but the other man shook his head. “You can’t.”

“Why not?”

Don had pulled away from him, almost curling up into a ball. Words like “commitment phobe” “No real ambition” and “Not Charlie” were all Ian could make out, but they were enough.

Firmly, he tugged at Don, forcing the other man up and kissed him, long and hard. Don fought for a few seconds, before relaxing into the kiss.

Slowly, Ian pulled back the covers, easing the other man down into the bed and himself around him.

“Sleep.” He muttered, firmly. “We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

He knew they wouldn’t. That Don would probably be gone as soon as he woke up. That tonight was just about exhaustion from the case coupled with a bad fight, nothing more. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to enjoy just holding Don while he slept.

/*/*/*/*/*//*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*

Sunlight streamed through the curtains where he’d forgotten to close them last night. Ian blinked awake, surprised to see Don still here, still wrapped around Ian like he was the only thing he could count on. 

Maybe, after what Don had said last night, it was true. 

He wiggled slightly, loosening Don’s grip enough to reach over and pull the sodden jeans closer to him. In the left pocket, as always, was Don’s phone.

Seven missed calls, three from his father, three from Charlie and one from Colby, probably on behalf of the team. And a text from Robin.

He raised an eyebrow as he read it. Dumping your fiancé by text, that was cold even by lawyer’s standards.

He could figure out what had happened. Don gets the text, probably while he’s at home. He calls Robin to try and find out what happened. Robin’s scared and upset (if he’s being generous, she’s not a bad attorney), so she says a lot of stuff. Stuff that’s 90% hers, he’s prepared to bet, but Don’s Don, so he assumes it’s his fault.

A part of Ian wonders what would have happened if the rain hadn’t been so bad, and he hadn’t left, but he decides against that. 

Life is what it is, and there’s no point getting worrying about it.

He’s not stupid enough to think that this has actually changed anything. Don might not have left yet, but he will do soon, probably as soon as he wakes up. Which looks like it’ll be soon, as his own phone is dancing on the nightstand. He grabbed it, not bothering to look at caller ID.

“Edgerton.”

“Ian?”

“Professor?”

“Is Don there?”  
“Yeah.” He’s just about to give out some story about meeting Don in a bar and taking him home to sleep it off, but the Baby Eppes interrupted him.

“Robin dumped him.”

“I heard.”

“He told Dad that he’s not doing this anymore. That he was sick of it.” Baby Eppes sounded genuinely worried. “Is he O.K.?”

Ian considered it for a moment. “Yeah.” He said, running his fingers though Don’s hair. “He’ll be fine”.


End file.
